


A Lion in the Wolf's Den

by RoseAlenko



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brooding Jon, Dashing Jaime, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, Jealous Jon, What more can you ask for? :P
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 18:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12538864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseAlenko/pseuds/RoseAlenko
Summary: It was not long after the meeting at the Dragonpit that Jaime Lannister made the long journey up the Kingsroad alone to pledge himself to Queen Daenerys. Everyone had been surprised at his arrival, but the real shock came when Dany accepted his pledge and welcomed the Kingslayer into her service.





	A Lion in the Wolf's Den

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! First and foremost, I want to wish a happy birthday to my wonderful friend Jenn, @sweetorganza on tumblr!!!! I love you, Jenn, and hope this day and weekend are full of fun and friends and love <3
> 
> A while back she asked for a fic featuring jealous Jon. This is a plot point that a lot of other, lovely fics have featured! But instead of Jorah or Daario, I’ve decided to throw Jaime into the mix to add some drama surrounding one of my favorite characters and maybe offer something a little new/different >;)
> 
> This fic is only the first part of what will be a 3 or 5-part mini-series, but I just wanted to post a small taste in honor of Jenn’s birthday today. This is completely unbeta’d and super angsty but I hope you guys like this opening bit! Let me know whatcha think. Enjoy!

It was not long after the meeting at the Dragonpit that Jaime Lannister made the long journey up the Kingsroad alone to pledge himself to Queen Daenerys. Everyone had been surprised at his arrival, but the real shock came when Dany accepted his pledge and welcomed the Kingslayer into her service.

After getting settled in, he had shared the ill tidings of his sister’s treachery, and the claim that he was loyal to her no longer. Jon was a forgiving man, but even he could not look Jaime in the eye and take him at his word. No, this man was not only Cersei’s twin brother but her  _lover_ , the father of her children. It was unimaginable to Jon that he had abandoned her to join Dany instead, regardless of his testimony about keeping his word to aid them against the Army of the Dead.

But Jon’s reservations did not prevent Tyrion from accepting his older brother with open arms. And in his usual fashion, the Hand of the Queen had slowly brought Dany around to his side as well. So, weeks later, here he was—a man whose disloyalty was well-known throughout the realm, the partner of their enemy, and he lived beneath Jon’s roof, ate at his table, and now, apparently, was permitted his own weapons with which to run drills in the yard.

Jon eyed Jaime critically from his place on the balcony above. The older man was formidable, even with only one hand. He wielded a Valyrian steel broadsword not unlike that of his current opponent, Lady Brienne of Tarth.

It was her word, too, that worked to sway Dany, for the two women had taken a swift liking to one another the moment they’d met. Brienne was an old friend of Jaime’s, it seemed; though one wouldn’t know it from watching them fight.

They were vicious, neither holding back, and almost equally matched. Brienne had the strength to challenge any man, and she utilized it with a lady’s grace. But Jaime’s footwork was precise, and he carried himself with the courage of a younger man, a man with both hands intact. It gave him an edge in a fight—he was aggressive, always on the offensive.

Today he was doing well, holding his ground even against his adversary’s merciless assault, and his gaudy, golden hand proved an effective tool for parrying attacks. Jon watched him catch another of Brienne’s swings against the sturdy metal, the force of the blow emitting a loud clang that reverberated throughout the yard. Without missing a beat, Jaime shoved forward with a grunt of effort, sending Brienne toppling backward into the snow.

A small gasp sounded from his right, and Jon turned warily to look at Dany where she watched the fray at his side. Her gloved fingers were clinched tightly on the balcony railing as she stared down at the fighters below, rivetted.

She was lovely today, as she was every day to Jon’s eye. But today she wore the smart new dress that Sansa had made for her. It was thick velvet to ward off the cold, and a royal purple that brought out her eyes. Over it she was wrapped in her black sable cape. The dark, shiny fur only accentuated the pale perfection of her skin, the bright glow of her hair. She felt Jon looking and her violet eyes flicked up to him for a moment, her lips curling in a shy smile at his attention. But it was only a moment before she turned back to observe the combatants on the ground again.

This wasn’t the first time Dany had come out to watch the Lannister lord. It made Jon uneasy.

He knew he had no right to think this way, to wonder if there was more to her interest in Jaime Lannister. It was none of his business who his queen fancied. So Jon told himself that he only worried out of concern for her safety, because he distrusted Jaime’s motives. But it was more than that, and deep down, he  _knew_  it was jealousy.

The voyage from King’s Landing to White Harbor had taken a little over a fortnight, but to Jon it had felt like the blink of an eye. Dany had spent every single evening aboard the ship in  _his_ bed, in  _his_  arms. Jon had fought to stay awake in the evenings after they’d made love, afraid to sleep for fear he would wake again to find it had all been some wild, wonderful dream.

But it had been  _real_ , every bit of it, and Jon had felt happiness those nights that he never dreamed he’d find again. Dany understood him—his responsibilities, his convictions, even his fears. With her he felt neither a king nor a bastard, just a man. A man in love with a woman.

He’d known he loved her from the moment she arrived to save them on their ill-fated trek beyond The Wall, all bravery and ethereal beauty, her eyes burning brighter than Drogon’s flames.

But also from that day, Dany had been sad and listless. The loss of her dragon and the reminder of her own apparent inability to bear a child of her own to fill its void weighed heavily on her gentle heart. Jon hated to see her like that, deflated and hopeless. Worst of all, she’d seemed to blame  _herself._

“If I’d trusted you, everything would be different,” she’d told him, her voice thick with unshed tears.

So from then on Jon had done everything he could to make her see that they’d  _both_  been fools in the beginning. They’d both made mistakes along the way, but together they could set things right. Jon knew it. He wanted her to know it, too.

He’d been desperate to show her that it wasn’t her fault, and that it didn’t matter to him if she could give him a dozen babies or none at all. He loved her, exactly as she was. Loved her in a way he’d never loved anyone before because she accepted  _him_ , too.

Jon had been convinced that Dany cared for him despite his bastard name, despite the ugly scars that marred his body—a constant reminder of his failures and betrayals. In spite of all that, she’d fought for him and sacrificed for him. She’d risked her own life and lost her dragon to save  _him_. No one had ever done anything like that for him before.

So Jon spent the next month lavishing Dany with every ounce of affection his weary heart had to give. Gradually she let her guard down, something she  _only_  did with him. It made Jon fiercely proud to have earned her trust. When she had finally shared the pains of her past with him, he was glad to wipe the tears from her reddened cheeks with his own hands. And when he told her of his own mistakes and betrayals, she lovingly kissed the bad memories away from every scar he bore.

After that, Jon dedicated every night to her pleasure, hungry for the low, involuntary sounds she made when he put his mouth on her, for the scratches her long fingernails left down his back, for the tang of her sweat and arousal on his tongue. And he craved the way she made  _him_  feel, too. He loved how she laced her fingers through his to hold herself steady when she rode him, teasing him with every rough thrust of her hips. The way she glanced up to see him watching every time she took him into her mouth, her plush lips sealing around the root of his cock. Dany made him feel things he didn’t even know existed, made him cum so many times in so many ways that he was  _sore_  the next day. But it was a pleasant, aching soreness. A secret they shared, and a mark she left on him like a signature.

What they had between them was so deep and different and unexpected. The tenderness Jon felt when he looked into her eyes, the way his heart wrenched in his chest to see her smile, it  _frightened_  him. But he knew he’d face any fear for the privilege of holding her.

It was when they’d reached White Harbor that everything changed. It turned out their secret wasn’t so secret after all. And Tyrion’s warning that their liaison put them both at risk had shaken Dany. He told them that if the Northerners knew they were lovers, they would believe Jon bent the knee for love instead of loyalty. And besides, Tyrion had argued, their feelings made them reckless and put them both in danger.

Jon knew he was right, knew that love had sent Dany on her dangerous flight to Eastwatch where she was more likely to die than to save them. It was a miracle they had escaped the Night King alive. And Jon also knew that it was love that compelled his own foolhardy decision to swear to Dany in front of everyone gathered at the dragonpit in King’s Landing.

Tyrion’s warnings had shocked Dany out of her giddy intimacy with Jon and back into the detached, regal, and altogether unreachable posture she’d assumed when they first met. Jon could see through her mask, though. And underneath her hard exterior was the same hopeless dejection he’d seen in her after Viserion’s death. Ending things between them hurt her just as much as it did him.

“I won’t jeopardize everything we’ve worked for. And I won’t endanger another person I love,” she’d proclaimed to Jon, fleeing his tent before he could muster a response. He’d been struck dumb by her words; it was the first time she’d ever said anything about  _love_  in his presence. And then she’d gone before he could tell her that he loved her, too. That no amount of counsel from Tyrion could change that, and that denying their love wouldn’t make them any safer.

But Jon’s own doubt took over again and he’d let her go. His feelings remained unspoken, and he supposed that was for the best. Just like that, their weeks of bliss became a surreal sort of memory.

Ever since that day, Dany had been nothing more than polite to Jon. For his part, he’d never been especially good at hiding his feelings, so he was constantly reminding himself to stop gawking at her beauty from across the room. He would often catch himself mid-step walking to her quarters at night before bed, as if nothing had changed, as if the end of the day still meant time with  _her_  instead of the lonely quiet of his own chamber.

He had to hold himself back from shouting at anyone who disagreed with her in council meetings, and to resist the urge to take her hand any time he saw her looking sad. It was torture, being so close to her day after day. The memory of what they’d had and the notion of what still  _could_  be was fresh and painful like a wound that wouldn’t close.

And now Jon watched her watch  _Jaime_ , watched her marvel at another man, a man who could offer her a valuable alliance. Logic told him that Dany would never involve herself with a man like Jaime—a dishonorable man, the man who had slaughtered her father. But Jon also knew Dany well enough to know that she would do almost anything for the good of her people and for the realm.

Jaime was the eldest male Lannister, the heir to Casterly Rock. His sister now sat on the Iron Throne, and Lannister forces held King’s Landing—forces rumored to be far more loyal to Jaime himself than to Cersei. If they survived the Winter and defeated the White Walkers at last, Dany could marry Jaime, and her path to the throne would be all the simpler. Solidifying a Lannister alliance would avoid a lot of bloodshed. Dany had to know that.

And even if Jaime wasn’t such a powerful lord, Jon had no illusions about the  _other_  qualities Jaime had to offer a potential wife. It hardly mattered that he was old enough to be Dany’s father. He certainly didn’t look it. Jaime Lannister’s looks were almost famous as his duplicitous murder of the Mad King.

Eight years prior, Jaime had accompanied King Robert to Winterfell, and Jon had been impressed by his confidence.  _That’s what a king ought to look like_ , Jon had thought back then, seeing in Jaime all the vigor and majesty that Robert Baratheon lacked. Young and naïve though he was, Jon had been right. And it was still true now. Even in his forties, Jaime was fit and muscled. The short-cropped hair on his head was still thick, the dark Lannister gold color still holding. Only the ever-present stubble on his jaw hinted at his age, spotted here and there with grey.

Anyone would agree that Jaime was handsome. Handsome, a skilled fighter, wealthy, and from a noble, influential family. And increasingly seen by Dany’s side.

For a while Jon had borne this development in private despair. But the closer the Lannister lord got to Dany the more it started to work Jon’s patience. The man wasn’t to be trusted. If Dany wasn’t Jon’s to love, so be it. He’d gladly spend the rest of his life fighting at her side, even if that meant watching her with another man. But he wouldn’t see her in the arms of her enemy. He wouldn’t abide her with Jaime Lannister.

Down below, Jaime offered a hand to help Brienne, the picture of chivalry. She reached up and accepted his assistance, clambering to her feet with a chuckle that steamed in the chilly air.

“I yield,” she exclaimed, shaking her head at him.

Jaime bowed slightly in acknowledgment of Brienne’s forfeit. Then he turned to face his audience, and Jon stiffened as Jaime’s green eyes swept straight up to the balcony, to Dany.

Jon fought the impulse to step in front of her, instead keeping his eyes focused straight ahead. But out of the corner of his eye he saw Dany return Jaime’s gaze, nodding politely. It was only when Jaime  _winked_  up at her that she broke into a grin.

Jon swallowed hard, his mouth twitching with disgust as Jaime bowed to them deferentially before following Brienne out of the yard and out of sight.

After that, Dany turned to him impassively, dropping into a formal curtsy, a gesture befitting a noble stranger. It felt like a knife in Jon’s heart.

“Your Grace,” she said in parting. And with that she disappeared inside, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued! Thanks for reading, guys :)


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